I felt like writing this... So I did. I could have done better, I know. What Gale thinks during Catching Fire while he is being whipped.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games trilogy or any characters/ events in it.
My wrists are bound in a matter of moments. Painfully tight, I might add. The rope is cutting my skin. He pushes me into a closet, and locks the door. I hear him shout some orders. A bunch of heavy footsteps pass the door. What has this dratted man got in store for me? And who the hell is this man?
I start counting time. I figure I've been in here about fifty seconds before I gather my wits. I count one hundred and thirty seconds until the door unlocks, and the man yanks me out of the closet and starts dragging me through his house, to where I think is the front.
"Who the hell are you? Where is Cray? What are you doing to me! You foul, Capitol loving, idiotic man! How dare you show up here, like you're the boss of Distric-" At this point the man stuffs a piece of cloth in my mouth, gagging me. I stare angrily at his back, glaring, wanting to yell insults at the top of my lungs. He finally gets to the front door, and harshly kicks it open. He yells at me to stand and walk, and I do, but rather reluctantly. I won't let him do whatever he's doing without putting up a fight. He walks to the center of town, me following in his wake. I see that a small, wooden post has been set up. My stomach lurches. This is clearly meant for me. And, clearly, it's a whipping post.
I consider running. I consider running for my life. But it's early morning, the sun is hardly rising. No one will open the door for me; let me in; stop me from facing this horrible fate. Only a few people are outside, and they are headed for the mines. Only one sees me, and he stops. He gathers those around him, and they get the people around them, who get their friends. In no time, a crowd has gathered. The man who is keeping me what I consider a hostage pushes me down next to the pole, rather forcefully, and rebinds my wrists, this time to the poll. He rips the gag out of my mouth, and tears my shirt off. He tosses my jacket aside. He yanks the turkey off my belt and nails it above my head, through its neck.
He speaks. "This man has been arrested for hunting, illegal trade, and for treason against the Capitol. He will plead guilty." I glare at the man again. But I follow what he says. I admit to all three of those crimes, gritting my teeth with every word that comes out of my throat. There is a fury within me that I have never known. The man continues. "He is sentenced," He pauses, observing the crowd, "with sixty lashes. To take place immediately." And with a whip that I hadn't noticed before, he raises his arm, a triumphant smile on his ugly face, he cracks it, and brings it down upon my bare back.
It hurts. It hurts like fire. I scream, my rage and the pain from that lash bursting out all at once. The man laughs cruelly, and raises the whip again, striking my back with the whip again, harder than the first, right down my spine. I scream again, the pain unbearable. Hot, burning, white fire; ripping my skin apart. On the third strike, I can feel a trickle of blood running down my back. On the fourth, white lights cross my eyes. "Katniss!" I scream, although I doubt anyone can understand what I'm saying. I'm glad she can't see me like this, screaming for mercy from a man that I could take down in a moment. Yet, I keep wishing she was here, sharing the pain, even if mentally. Wishing that she would help me out of this horrible predicament that I've landed myself so stupidly in. I stop counting the endless strikes against my body; I scream bloody Mary every time I feel a blow against my back, screaming in the brief brakes between lashes. Another lash is brought upon my back. It's slow torture. Saying it hurt like fire would be an understatment. I close my eyes.
I don't feel a searing pain hitting my back. Is he mocking me? Playing with me? I hate this man. I hear a voice. It's Darius.
"Back off the boy, he's only nineteen!"
"He's a man. He'll get over it." The voice I've learned to fear.
"That is Katniss Everdeen's cousin! Gale Hawthorne!"
"Serves him right, breaking the law, related to someone who is so admired by the country of Panem."
At this point, I think Darius punched him in the nose because I hear a grunt. Is this torture over? Nope. I open my eyes to see Darius being hit over the head with the butt of the whip, and shoved aside. He's knocked out cold. The man says, "You know this man?" The anger is clear in his voice. All I can do is nod. Wrong answer. He whips my back again, harder than before, shouting insults at me. He hits me with a passion. His whip just keeps geting harder, and wetter with my blood. It stings. I feel as if my back is falling apart. That I'm being skinned. I'm screaming for mercy. I yell with every ounce of strength I have left that'd I'd do anything. I tell him just to kil me; I want this to stop. After about ten more lashes, I whimper, "Catnip….please help me." The pain dies away, and I see black. I'm out cold. Relief at last.
I edited this again. I don't know if this has been done before... Please review, it takes like three seconds.. It really makes my day, too. I've been watching the traffic. Some eighty something hits and six reviews. Doesn't really add up.
~May the odds be ever in your favor~
